Forever First Option - Italy x Reader
by Moniella
Summary: He lowered the flowers into the box, trying not to sob loudly as he made contact with your icy cold, lifeless skin. And now you were gone from him forever. If only he could have saved you from your inner demons of suicide.


It had been nearly a week since your death, since you threw yourself in front of a moving truck

The doctors had concluded since your birth that there was something wrong with you, and not in a good way. The knew from the start that you were suffering from a severe mental disease. It was only now that your mother wanted to sent you to find out for sure and get medication.

Feliciano was always worried. Ever since your best friend anniversary, you had lost weight, your eyes had lost those lights he once loved, and your breath often reeked of Ludwig's favorite German beer. Once he had caught you smoking even, and the time he found you cutting was the worse. He didn't know what to do, but finally he had told Ludwig.

He softly rapped on his former best friend's bedroom door, surprised the blonde actually got up from studying for once and opened it. He usually told the Italian boy to bug off, that he was busy writing his new novel based around Nazis and war, his usual interest, but he was glad that for once he actually let him in.

"Ludwig," he softly spoke, looking up into the larger man's blue eyes. "I need to talk to you. It's about _," he whispered, trying to hold back the tears that he started to let fall loose. The German was surprised, but made no hesitance to let him enter and sit on the wide bed.

"What is it, Feliciano?" he asked, sitting on the bed next to him and patting his back. "What is wrong with my schwester?"

He didn't know where to begin, he didn't know what to say that he was actually here, in Ludwig's room, having the other so open to him. What was he going to say? He had been nervous around Ludwig ever since they got into that argument a few months ago about _.

"I..._, I'm worried for her."

Ludwig looked at him with concern. He had never, in his entire life, seen his friend cry. Never. He never wanted to see him like this either, but here he was, crying his eyes out.

"Tell me."

Feliciano started out slow, answering Ludwig's few questions he had about starting. Feliciano ended up pouring out what he knew, and all of the concerns. He told Ludwig that you had lost weight to the point where your cheeks were well defined, and you reminded him of a zombie as you walked around with those fish eyes. He even told him that you were cutting, that you were drinking, and he had guessed you hadn't bathed in awhile. There was even blood all over your clothes sometimes. There was something seriously wrong with you, and he wanted nothing than to fix it.

Ludwig seemed to be breaking as he told him as well, still comforting the Italian as he cried out his feelings.

And now here they all were, the Beilschmidt family, the Vargas family, everyone who had some relationship to _. They were all crying, dressed in black, holding flowers, and pouring out hurt feelings. In the middle of it all, stood Feliciano, dressed in a fancy black tuxedo and bore a bright yellow rose, the kind that he swore he'd get you for your birthday. The type that he would give you as he confessed his undying and unconditional love. The kind that he would tie into your small braids as children.

But now, you were gone, and the last chance he could give them to you was now, no other time was right.

As the viewing approached, Feliciano was sure he was right before everyone else, first to see the girl he thought he could spend his life with.

And so he approached the large case of ivory, swirling black patterns carved like ink dancing across parchment, showing off your beauty. A long flowing ebony, crimson, and golden family dress is what you were sporting, showing off your German heritage. Your hair was in beautiful, long flowing Dutch braids, tiny flowers tied into them gracefully. They had cleaned the blood and mended everything that had gone to your body. Originally it was too gruesome to show anybody, but the funeral owners fixed it up. On your face was light make up, making everything look so perfect.

He lowered the flowers into the box, trying not to sob loudly as he made contact with your icy cold, lifeless skin.

"_," he murmured, pressing a hand to your beautiful face, tears dripping from his mocha eyes. "Why, why didn't you ever ask for help? Why didn't you ever tell me what was wrong? Why did you have to jump in front of that truck? Why? You used to be such a strong girl. You would never cry, but all of a sudden things changed." The tears continued to flow, soaking the flowers he laid in the casket, your final resting place. "But...I won't judge you. Ever. You were my everything, and if you were suffering so much, then if you felt as if death was your only relief, I'll respect your wishes. The world didn't deserve you, you were too beautiful for something like it. It soiled you and ended your life. I love you, _."

Feliciano never forgot you. After ten years, he was married now to a girl he had met on the streets one day, and they didn't have the best of relationships. She was abusive and drank, hitting Feliciano for being such a coward. He never leaved her because she looked so much like you. Their daughter, _, was named after you. Feliciano never stopped loving you, and no matter what, you would be his first option.


End file.
